


Operation Volkov

by Little_Plebe



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, F/M, Fluff and Humor, POV Phil Coulson, Undercover Missions, With Manip Art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8347102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Plebe/pseuds/Little_Plebe
Summary: Phil Coulson has a problem. Maria Hill is training Darcy to be an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and who better to work missions with than Agent Coulson, supposedly the most patient man alive and Fury’s little darling?Their first mission: Operation Volkov.





	1. Agent Superior

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hollyspacey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollyspacey/gifts).



> For the lovely Hollyspacey, who pulled me kicking and screaming into this ship and encouraged me to write this story.
> 
> Check out the manip art for this chapter [here](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/152156718154/httparchiveofourownorgworks8347102chapters1).

“Lighten up, Phil. We’re in a party! Look at those dancing couples. Look how happy they are.”

Phil Coulson pursed his lips and debated whether he should spit out a cutting remark or ignore his partner’s comment entirely. How Darcy Lewis had come to be his cohort in this mission was beyond him. She was loud, rash and irritating. Maria Hill was clearly in over her head if she thought Darcy would make a good S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. One, she could barely hold her own in a fight. Two, she laughed a lot and that confused Phil. Everywhere he looked, everywhere he went, he saw danger. Really, what was there to laugh about in life? Three, she refused to wield any weapon other than a taser. So, clearly she was a bit cuckoo up there.

Phil finally deigned her with a brief glance and said, “I’m your superior and you’re to address me as Sir or Agent Coulson at all times.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “That’s all you got? Did you only hear your name and block out all the other words I said?”

After serious contemplation, Phil decided her questions didn’t warrant an answer, so he trained his gaze on the target and didn’t say anything. They were there on surveillance detail, not to lighten up and dance with the other couples. Darcy was either pulling his leg like she usually did or she was stupid in the head.

“Volkov’s moving,” she suddenly whispered, her eyes following their target, the man of the house, the host of this party. “Do we follow him?”

Phil shook his head. Volkov disappearing down the hall with a leggy blonde was the least of their worries. He was a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who seemed to have gone rogue. But they weren’t there to apprehend him and question him. S.H.I.E.L.D. had no proof of his double-crossing and if he ever found out that he was under suspicion, he would start watching his steps. The man was smart. Phil had never met him—Volkov was before his time—but he had heard a lot of stories about the old man. In his time, he was a mastermind and an excellent combatant. Those who knew him called him the Wolf. Maria always said the name sent chills down her spine.

“So we’re just here to observe?” asked Darcy impatiently, adjusting her dress for the millionth time. She wore a glittery silver dress and a short dark wig that made her look like a Parisian model.

“Yes,” replied Phil simply. He realized he was staring at her thighs and quickly looked away. “Also, I want the entire place wired so that S.H.I.E.L.D. communications can listen in on everything Volkov says.”

Darcy nodded. “He’s bound to let slip a few secrets.”

“Exactly.”

“So how do we go about doing it?” Someone came up and complimented Darcy on her dress. “Why, thank you,” she said with a genuine smile. “That’s so sweet of you.” Once the lady left, Darcy turned back to him gleefully. “Did you see that? She liked my dress!”

Phil looked at her in disbelief. Did she not know what she looked like? Had she never looked at herself in the mirror? She was extraordinarily beautiful and looked good in everything she wore, even those thick ugly sweaters she seemed to like. Barton’s words, not Phil’s. He had lost count of how many men he had caught staring at Darcy since the moment she stepped foot in the party. No one had approached her yet because Phil involuntarily frowned at anyone who came within five feet of her. But he knew the minute he left her, she would be surrounded by men.

“Phil?”

He blinked and automatically corrected, “Agent Coulson. As I was going to say before we were rudely interrupted, I’ve already planted three bugs—one at the entrance and two in this room.”

“When did you do that?” Darcy asked in surprise.

“When you weren’t looking.”

She closed her eyes and nodded as if she hadn’t expected a proper answer from him anyway. “Where else do you want them?”

“Volkov’s office, his bedroom and his bathroom.”

“Why bathroom?”

“Reasons.” That’s what she had said when Phil had asked her why she stuck around with Jane Foster as her unpaid intern.

“Right. So how do we go about doing it?” she asked again. “I cause a distraction and you sneak out?”

Phil shook his head, a little more vehemently than necessary. “You can’t stay here.” He paused and rephrased his dialogue. “I mean, you’re coming with me. We don’t need a distraction.”

“People will just assume we’re going to find a room and indulge in dirty deeds?”

She was obviously right but there was no need to say that out loud, was there? It was understood what he was aiming at; she didn’t have to go and give him mental images for the same. Good Lord!

“Ms. Lewis, you’re not to say things like that in my presence. I’m your superior and—”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Darcy, waving off-handedly. “You’re my superior and you have a stick up your ass.”

“Not funny, Ms. Lewis.”

They made their way out of the ballroom into the hallway lined with sleek wooden doors on both sides. Darcy slipped her hand into his and his first instinct was to jerk away from her and scowl unattractively but he realized what she was doing and gritted his teeth, trying to focus on the mission rather than the feeling of her skin against his. He pushed open the first door and found Volkov making out with the blonde. Phil scrunched up his face and closed the door as silently as he could.

“Ugh. Not something you’d want to see again,” murmured Darcy.

“At least he’s occupied,” stated Phil.

The second door turned out to be a supplies closet. The third door opened into a nursery. Strange, because Volkov didn’t have any children. Phil went in and planted a bug below the cot. Darcy raised her eyebrows at him.

“Just in case,” he replied.

They crossed the hallway and opened the fourth door, which was right opposite the nursery. It only took a glimpse of the huge mahogany desk and a computer to confirm that this was Volkov’s office. A deer head hung above the desk and a bookshelf lined the adjacent wall. It was a simple, spacious room and when Phil stepped inside…

Lasers shot out of the wall?!

“Christ!” he exclaimed, standing very still. So that’s why there was no security in the house. Only Volkov could enter his office. Damn!

“Darcy, stay right there!”

He didn’t realize he had called her by her first name and, thankfully, neither did she, or she would never let him live it down. At the moment, though, she looked horrified as she watched Phil freeze in the middle of the room. It was a miracle the beams hadn’t gone right through him when he activated them. They had zipped past him, missing him by a hair and tearing his blazer in various places. He was stuck between the criss-cross beams, trying not to move lest he fall into their path and die a horrible death.

“Shit,” said Darcy, panicking. “What now?”

Wanting to look around, Phil turned his head very slightly and felt a sting on his ear. He was really, truly stuck. Well, he had to stay calm for Darcy’s sake. This was her first mission and he didn’t want to scar her for life by panicking and making things worse.

“Ms. Lewis,” he said softly. “It’ll be fine. I’ve honestly been in worst situations.” He hadn’t. This was, by far, the worst. “I can’t see anywhere except straight ahead. Can you see a deactivation panel anywhere?”

She was silent for a moment or two, then said excitedly, “I see a metal panel beside the bookshelf. It has two buttons. It’s switched on. Do you think it’s the one?”

“Could be.” How to get to the panel was the problem. It was on the other side of the room. Phil couldn’t move, Darcy was safe by the door. They didn’t have much time. If they were caught… he didn’t even want to think about what would happen if they were found out.

Something struck him and he asked, “How low do the lasers run, Lewis?”

“Just till your calf. Why?” she replied immediately. She still sounded scared, but now Phil had an idea and being scared wasn’t on the table that day.

“Think you can crawl under them and get to the panel?”

“Yes.” Her voice was low and dubious at first, then she exclaimed confidently, “Yes! Why didn’t I think of that?”

Phil couldn’t help himself. “Because I’m your superior and, as such, in charge of brilliant, life-saving ideas.”

“Rein it in, Agent Superior.”

He heard rather than saw her kneel down and plaster herself flat on the carpeted floor. “If I die saving your hide, I’m gonna haunt your ass so hard…”

“That is inappropriate and I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“Oh, I’ll make you appreciate,” she panted under her breath, making her way across the room on her stomach. She pinched his leg when she passed him. After a while, when he didn’t hear another peep out of her, Phil got restless. What was taking so long? She was supposed to reach the other side by now.

A faint tapping sound reached his ears and Phil growled under his breath. “What are you doing?”

“Snooping around in Volkov’s computer,” came the flippant response.

Phil choked, a dozen curse words on his lips. But he was a mature, put-together individual; he would not stoop to that level. “Deactivate the lasers, Ms. Lewis,” he said with forced calm.

“In a bit. I’ve copied a few folders that I found important into my thumb drive and installed a Trojan in the computer. This way, we can monitor his online activities as well.”

As impressive as that was, Phil really didn’t care about anything right then except getting out of these blasted lasers. His legs were beginning to fall asleep and the urge to itch his ear was overwhelming.

“Lewis, I order you to—”

“Say I did a good job and you appreciate me.”

“That’s blackmail,” he argued halfheartedly.

“Be as it may. I want you to say it.”

He debated not obliging her. They weren’t playing a game. It was a situation of life and death. But then he decided that they were wasting time and this was a silly thing to not obey.

“Fine,” he said. “You did a good job.”

“And?” Her voice was nearer now. She was probably done with the computer.

“And I appreciate you,” he ground out.

“Will I make a good S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?”

“Yes,” he replied, surprised to realize that he meant it.

The laser beams disappeared and Phil sagged, sighing in relief. The first thing he did was scratch his ear and his elbow, then he pulled out a mic from his pocket and tossed it at Darcy. She caught it and affixed it to the underside of Volkov’s desk.

“Done,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s go.”

Phil openly glared at her. There was no way he was ever taking her on a mission with him. Even if she managed to save him, her chirpiness would kill him. He followed her out of the room, careful to shut the door behind him. Next on their list was the bedroom. Volkov’s bedroom was a massive space filled with all kinds of luxuries possible. A big bed covered with silk sheets, two walk-in closets, a shelf full of expensive show pieces and a classy bathroom with no door. They had just finished bugging the place when they heard the slam of a door and voices heading in their direction.

“Quick, get behind me,” said Darcy urgently, grabbing a handful of Phil’s blazer and yanking him toward her carelessly. Unprepared for her assault, he stumbled into her and both went tumbling on the bed.

“What the hell, Lewis?”

“Sorry. It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

He pushed her off him and ran to the window. It was a ten feet drop to the grass. Not bad. He climbed on the ledge and turned to Darcy. “You’ll need to suck it up and jump—oof!”

She pushed him and jumped right after him, not giving him time to move out of the way.

Two minutes in, they were still lying in the grass, Darcy sprawled on top of him. He was thankful no one was looking out of the window at the moment or they would be _so_ busted. He grunted when Darcy shifted over him.

“Why did you push me?”

“You were wasting time giving me the stupid pep talk.”

“You’re not allowed to ever push me again or call my pep talk stupid.”

“God,” Darcy moaned in exasperation. “Lighten _up_ , Phil.” She rolled off him and sat up unsteadily. “I think we’re done for today. Mission was a success, yes?”

He merely grunted, then said, “It’s Agent Coulson to you.”


	2. Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the manip art for this chapter [here](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/152303337614/chapter-2-of-operation-volkov-is-up). Let me know what you think.

During the two months after the initiation of Operation Volkov, Phil found himself paired with Darcy again and again. After what had happened that day, he had expressly forbidden Maria Hill to tag him with the mouthy brunette ever again, but Hill was training Darcy to be an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and who better to work missions with than Phil Coulson, supposedly the most patient man alive and Fury’s little darling?

He had to admit that Darcy was getting better. She was just as sassy and irritating as ever but she had learnt basic combat and defense techniques, and she could shoot relatively well if the target wasn’t moving. Not the best kind of progress for a potential S.H.I.E.L.D. agent but Hill was apparently in love with her, otherwise why would she cut Darcy so much slack all the time? Whenever he pointed it out to her, she would get a rare mischievous glint in her eye and say “Lighten up, Coulson” which would cause him to frown. Those were Darcy’s words.

One day, Phil was summoned to Hill’s office for a debriefing about his next mission. Thanks to the bugs he had successfully planted all over the Volkov residence, they had been able to gather that the Wolf was working on some of kind of confidential project. He always spoke in code words that S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t been able to decipher yet, but Hill had listened in on a conversation between him and a person called Cinna, who was going to meet Volkov next week. Phil’s job, as expected, was to spy on their conversation, get video proof and, if possible, catch them in the act of crime.

“Darcy will join you on this mission,” Hill casually informed him after they had gone over the basics.

Phil stared at her blankly, careful not to show his displeasure at the news. Very calmly, he said, “I’d prefer Barton.” Clint was laidback, professional and had saved Phil’s ass more times than he could count. Clint was a perfect backup, not an amateur who preferred tasers to guns.

“Barton’s on field with Romanoff and Rogers.”

“What about Carter?”

“Deep undercover.”

Well then, there was no other choice but Darcy. She was good with computers and technology. She would be an asset. Phil sighed in resignation. “Very well.”

Hill gave him a look. “You’ve been out half a dozen times with her already. Haven’t you gotten used to her?”

“It’s difficult.” Admitting that the only thing he had gotten used to was seeing her in short, skin-tight outfits and bright red lips was out of question.

Hill looked like she could see right through him. She smirked. “Get over it, Coulson. Mold her to your liking. She’s yours now.”

There was a certain unexpected thrill in hearing those words. It irritated him to no end. “Thanks, that’s reassuring,” he deadpanned before walking out.

 

“Phil! Hey, Phillius!”

Knowing there was no way he could ignore the insistent voice calling for him, Phil turned to see the bane of his existence running down the corridor. She skidded to a stop before him with a huge grin on her face.

“My name is not Phillius, Ms. Lewis, and you know that.”

“How else can I get your attention?”

“By calling me Agent Coulson.”

Darcy rolled her eyes and fell into step with him when he started walking. “Come on, Phil, we’re partners. Agent Coulson is so boring.” She paused as if an idea had struck her. “You know what, we should be best friends. That would be so cool. Best friends who always have each other’s backs, best friends who go out together—”

“We don’t go out. We go on missions,” Phil pointed out but he was ignored in favor of cooler things.

“Best friends who share an office…”

“Absolutely not!”

“Best friends who live together.”

To his credit, Phil didn’t let the shock he felt show on his face, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from widening a little. Darcy said outrageous things all the time. He should get used to it.

She giggled at his expression. “I’m kidding, Phil.” He nodded and pushed open the door to his office. To his dismay, she followed. “Although, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to move in. What do you say? Best friends live together all the time.”

He settled himself behind his desk and Darcy plopped on the chair opposite him, her mouth running without a pause. “Every morning, I could make you a protein shake and you could teach how to air kick like you do. I could show you how to hack into protected servers and you could do my laundry, because let’s face it, that’s boring and you do boring so well.”

Phil let out a long suffering sigh and tried to tune her out. It wasn’t easy. His senses had programmed Darcy so thoroughly in his system that no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t ignore her. Closing his eyes and taking a deep cleansing breath didn’t help either.

“Darcy.” At the sound of her name rolling from his lips, she immediately quieted. “We’re not moving in together.”

Something changed in her and when she spoke, her voice was timid. “We might. Some day.”

He didn’t know what came over him when, instead of refuting her, he merely nodded and said, “Someday.”

Her lips twitched upwards in a brief smile and then she was talking again like they hadn’t just shared a moment. “My new Stark taser is arriving tomorrow. So I told Maria I won’t need a gun on the mission… Nat said she would teach me how to kill someone with my thighs.” She had so much to say that sometimes, she didn’t complete her train of thought, jumping from one unrelated topic to another without warning. “Volkov talks about kids a lot. I really think they’re not code words. Maybe he’s just adopting a baby, you know, I mean he _does_ have a nursery… thinking of wearing the off-white blouse and black skirt that Maria bought me last time she went out… they made advanced weaponry for us, let’s check it out tomorrow.”

The sudden silence in the office caused Phil to look at her curiously. “Do you wanna go grab lunch with me?” asked Darcy. She sounded nervous. That was unusual.

He closed the file he had been pretending to study while she prattled on and told himself that she wouldn’t leave unless she got her way. It didn’t help. He was making excuses again, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself from nodding. “Yes. Let’s go.”

 

The worst part about being partnered with Darcy was that she didn’t always follow the rules even though they were fairly simple: don’t talk unless necessary, don’t kill unless necessary and obey Agent Coulson at all times. She was completely okay with the second rule; it was the first and third she had trouble with. For one, if she wanted to get something out of her system, she would find a way to do so no matter the circumstances. Phil couldn’t think of any solution to that short of kissing her to shut her up. But kissing was unprofessional—not really how Phil rolled. And secondly, she had a habit of jumping in front of him whenever they were under attack. Defending and caring for someone was a positive trait but, come on, standing guard before him during a dangerous situation was plain stupid. Phil Coulson was a trained agent, a professional who could kill you with a toothpick. He didn’t need protection.

Nevertheless, he humored her whenever he could; he didn’t know why. Like when they went back to the Volkov residence next week for the second phase of their mission, Phil let Darcy lead. She tiptoed across the lawn, the smallest sounds making her grip his hand and murmur things like ‘Stay behind me’ and ‘Don’t move.’ Her behavior amused him to no end but he would be crazy to admit it. It was clear that she wasn’t consciously being protective; it came to her naturally, and unless he pushed her away from him, she wouldn’t even realize she was doing it. Phil supposed it was endearing… to some extent.

They staked out in the shadows outside Volkov’s bedroom window, the very one they had jumped out of last time they were there. Darcy pulled out a camcorder from a pouch fastened around her waist and looked through it, zooming in until she caught sight of Volkov getting ready in his closet.

“Ugh,” she whispered, lowering the cam. “I saw his butt.”

“Cinna’s not here yet,” observed Phil. “We have time to prepare.”

“Prepare for what?”

He glanced at her. “We need video proof, remember? Volkov’s office has no windows. We need to be in the house when Cinna comes.”

“Or,” said Darcy thoughtfully. “We could plant the cam inside and leave. Last time we had a house full of people as diversions. This time, won’t it be a risk to sneak in?”

Phil considered her words. She had a point. But even if they planted the cam inside and left, they would still have to go back in to retrieve it. Unless they could stream the feed live to S.H.I.E.L.D. communications. Then, they could just leave the cam there for the future. Volkov would be none the wiser. When he mentioned it to Darcy, she was quick to nod and ask if they had a computer.

“The laptop’s in the car.”

“I’ll get it,” said Darcy immediately.

“No, you stay here. Keep an eye on Volkov.”

He slinked away in the shadows, careful to keep an eye out for the guards, but he didn’t see anyone. Phil was beginning to understand how Volkov’s mind worked. He was arrogant enough to think that he was too smart for security. The laser trap was a good idea but if he was into illegal projects, how long before his status was compromised? How long before law enforcement caught up with him? The Wolf was going senile and Phil was reaping the advantages.

He was hurrying back with the laptop in hand when he noticed that Darcy wasn’t where he had left her. His first thought was she had sneaked off without his permission again. If that was the case, Darcy had hell to pay. But then, he saw the camcorder lying on the ground and his heart started beating faster.

“Looking for someone?”

Phil turned and saw the Wolf standing behind him, a gun poised in his fist.

Well, shit.


	3. The Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manip art for this story found [here](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/152785032689/chapter-3-of-operation-volkov-is-up-finally), [here](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/152303337614/chapter-2-of-operation-volkov-is-up) and [here](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/post/152156718154/httparchiveofourownorgworks8347102chapters1). Lemme know what you think.

His sense of hearing was the first to rouse. Faint scraping noises of wood against wood; someone moaning and whimpering beside him; a familiar voice speaking in the next room, muffled and gruff; a clock ticking somewhere above him, low but annoyingly insistent. The sense of taste was next to return. His tongue was dry and his mouth felt stale, as if he hadn’t used it in a while. His lips parted and air escaped, causing him to wrinkle his nose and slowly blink his eyes open. In his slumped position, the first thing he noticed were bound wrists. The chair he was sitting on was wooden and both his hands were tied to the armrest. He wiggled his wrist but the bond was snug. To his irritation, his ankles were bound as well, otherwise it would have been very easy to free himself.

Phil Coulson sighed and raised his head to glance at a similarly bound Darcy. To his surprise and amusement, she was gagged unlike him and she furrowed her brow and moaned again, jerking violently against her bonds. The legs of her chair scraped noisily against the floor as she struggled. Before Phil could tell her to relax, Volkov entered the room, looking annoyed.

“Can’t you tell her to be quiet?” he growled at Phil. “I see gagging her makes no difference.”

Phil nodded. “She’s a restless little thing.”

Darcy’s eyes widened and she glared at him, redoubling her efforts to get free. Both men ignored her. Volkov looked at Phil with interest.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Agent Coulson,” he said, pulling up a chair opposite Phil. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

His voice was low and rough and his speech perfectly American, no trace of the thick Russian accent that Phil had heard so many times in the old S.H.I.E.L.D. databases. Not for the first time, he wondered how a Russian agent had come to be a part of their organization. But then, Volkov wasn’t the only exception, was he? There was Natasha Romanoff, an enemy before she was converted to their side. Only difference was, Agent Romanoff would never betray S.H.I.E.L.D. like Vladimir Volkov had.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” said Phil, adding, “Wolf.”

Volkov laughed. It was an open laugh, no evil or sarcasm hidden in its depths. It caused Darcy to stop squirming and stare at both men in bemusement. Their amicable interaction was probably throwing her off.

His laughter melting into a chuckle, Volkov wagged a finger at Phil. “You’re smart, Coulson, but not as smart as I am.”

“I bet,” deadpanned Phil. “Why didn’t you shoot me earlier?”

“Oh, I intend to. Rendering you temporarily unconscious was a better option since I wanted to talk to you first.” He leaned back, tilting the chair on both legs, and smirked. “I didn’t hit you that hard, did I? Don’t see a dent on your head.”

“I’m fine,” Phil bit out impatiently. Volkov was stalling and Phil wanted to be free of these bonds as soon as possible. The man may be friendly on the surface but Phil had learned not to trust anyone in this business, alley or enemy. And the man sitting before him was definitely an enemy. Otherwise Phil and Darcy wouldn’t be bound to these wooden chairs, stripped out of their possessions. He could see his mobile, laptop, camcorder and other weapons on the far table behind Volkov.

“What’s S.H.I.E.L.D. been up to? Last I heard, you guys were babysitting the Avengers.”

Trying not to bristle at his words, Phil replied calmly, “I’m afraid that’s none of your business.”

Volkov made a noncommittal sound. “Don’t I have a right to ask after the organization I used to work for?” When he got no reply, he leaned forward and smiled. “They’ve trained you well, I see.” At that moment, Darcy made a sound and Volkov’s eyes slid to her, his expression morphing as if he was reevaluating his previous remark.

“Is there a point to this conversation?” Phil sniped.

“Impatience,” murmured Volkov. “Not a good quality.”

Phil refused to rise to the bait. “What do you want with S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

Instead of responding with a threat like Phil had thought he would, considering how the man was betraying them, Volkov merely stared with twinkling eyes, his smile almost manic as he spoke in a low ominous voice. “S.H.I.E.L.D. will fall, Agent Coulson. And if I had to bet money on it, I’d say it will fall at the very hands of your precious Avengers.”

A chill ran down Phil’s spine and he tried his damndest to maintain an unaffected exterior. The Wolf was bluffing. He was not allowed to play with their minds. Phil wouldn’t let him. He chanced a glance at Darcy, who was sitting limp in her chair, eyeing their conversation with resignation, all the fight gone from her system. That, Phil thought, was sadder than what Volkov had said about the Avengers being the cause of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s fall.

“Tell me, agent,” the man began, narrowing his eyes in thought. “You have so many important things to do. Now that we know about the existence of aliens, protecting the world must come at a big price.” He paused and leaned forward until he was in Phil’s face. “So, my question to you is, why waste your precious time spying on an old man who has done nothing but serve S.H.I.E.L.D. till the last day of his retirement?”

Phil resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “We keep tabs on all our agents, past and present. It’s a safety measure, mentioned in the contract.”

Volkov sat back and assessed him shrewdly. “You think I’m stupid?” Phil decided it wouldn’t be in his favor if answered the question. “You think I don’t know about the mics you planted all over my house?”

Well, that explained the radio silence from Hill. Communications didn’t know the bugs were compromised and their agents were under captivity. Aside from a creased brow, Phil gave away nothing. Neither did Darcy. He was proud of her.

“Two months and I thought my baby-related code words would have worked, but here you are, sitting in my presence, bound and gagged.” He stood up and started pacing, running a hand through his fleece of grey hair. “I almost considered actually adopting a baby, ready to go to any extent to make you believe I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Tell me why didn’t it work?”

“You think we’re stupid?” Phil couldn’t resist.

Volkov stopped to laugh at him. “Am I that obvious?”

“We’re just really good at digging dirt,” quipped Phil. “You would know. You were a dirt digger once.”

“I still am, my dear boy.”

He was getting tired of the conversation. His fingers were beginning to go numb, the ropes cutting painfully into his wrists. He was more worried about Darcy though. Her mouth would be sore by now, lips stretched dry by the gag. Shaking himself before he could get carried away by the thought of Darcy’s lips, Phil spoke, “Why not just shoot us and get it over with?”

“You’re here for Cinna, aren’t you?” smiled Volkov. “I’m not so cruel as to kill you before you get a chance to meet him. He’s coming to talk about the super soldier project and I have a feeling that you’d be very interested to know what he has to say.”

 

“What are you doing?”

That was the first time Darcy had spoken since Volkov had taken pity on her and removed the gag. She had coughed and sputtered, sucking in the moisture in her mouth down her throat in a loud hiss. Her lipstick was smudged and she licked the chapped skin with her tongue all the while glaring at Phil as if this was all his fault. It probably was. He shouldn’t have left her alone to get captured. Something told him that wasn’t what she was angry about.

Instead of dwelling on the inner workings of a woman’s mind, Phil set about trying to free his right leg from the ropes binding it. After Volkov retired to his office to await the arrival of the mysterious Cinna, Phil had desperately tried not to let his parting words faze him. It was a failed attempt. He couldn’t help but break it over several different ways in his mind. What about the super soldier project? Did that mean they were going to kill Captain America? Or were they trying to replicate the serum and make another super soldier? How was that even possible?

Overthinking was killing him. He needed to focus his attention and channel his energy on freeing himself rather than contemplating Volkov’s words. He could be bluffing again, although a small part of Phil didn’t think so. He was good at reading people. Volkov wasn’t bluffing this time. He was planning something big and Phil needed to be in on it so that S.H.I.E.L.D. could save the day.

Darcy asked him what he was doing when he began to jerk around, trying to turn his back to her. If he could tilt back his chair enough, leaning his weight on Darcy, then maybe he could slide the ropes down and out of the chair’s leg. But with the noise he was making, Phil didn’t think Volkov would let him get away with it. He didn’t want the Wolf to get suspicious and not leave them alone. Phil had to think of some other way to free himself.

“I need to take off my shoe,” he grunted in reply to Darcy’s question.

Darcy merely arched a brow that he did not see, too busy trying to shake his shoe off. When he succeeded, he turned it over with the tip of his socked foot.

“What,” Darcy repeated, “are you doing? Can’t you break your chair or something?”

Phil stopped what he was doing to give her an incredulous look. “Can’t you see my legs are tied? If I try to break the chair, I’ll just fall over. What use is that gonna be for anybody?”

“I’m going to kill Volkov,” she said.

“Save it.” He went back to poking at the back of his shoe.

“We can’t even call for back-up,” sighed Darcy. “He stripped us bare, the bastard!”

Where was that damned button?

“You were quite chummy with him.” So that’s the reason of her initial short-lived anger. She sounded sadder now, if not her usual brand of annoying. “We’re gonna die here and no one will know what happened.”

“We’re not going to die,” Phil grit out. His toe hit the correct spot and he held in a whoop of joy.

“You will never know how I feel abo—what the!” She broke off mid-sentence to stare in awe as the sole of his shoe opened to reveal a set of round buttons and a chip. Phil looked up at her, suddenly anxious.

“How you feel about what?”

She looked freaked. “Uh…”

“What were you saying?” he insisted.

“No-nothing,” she said nervously. She eyed his shoe again and tried to change the subject. “What is that?”

“It’s a hidden phone.” He watched her hopefully for a second, then began the tedious work of dialing a number. It was difficult and he had to strain a lot. He also wished he hadn’t worn socks that day.

“All this time you were wearing a phone on your foot?”

“Yes.”

“Phil Coulson, you’re a genius!”

A flash of pride colored his cheeks but he merely said, “Shhh!” She nodded and watched excitedly as he slowly dialed Maria Hill’s number.

“Coulson,” whispered Hill, bless her soul. Her soft voice floated from the speaker at the heel. “Trouble in paradise?”

“We’re compromised.”

“Roger that. Sending back-up right away.”

She hung up and Phil immediately rolled his shoe over, slipping his foot into it.

“Doesn’t it also have a hidden knife or something that we could use to cut these stupid ropes?” complained Darcy, struggling against her bounds again.

“No. It has an acid pouch,” Phil replied solemnly. “I’m not risking burning either of us right now.”

 

He knew the moment their back-up arrived. He heard two muffled thumps, presumably the sounds of the two guards at the entrance being neutralized. Four agents in black attire and jackboots slunk in, looking around cautiously before catching sight of Phil and Darcy.

“Jesus,” one of them muttered, rushing over to release Phil from his bounds.

“Agent Maude,” Phil greeted. “Thanks for being so quick.”

Once Phil and Darcy were free, Maude whispered, “What’s the plan?”

“Take Darcy and go. I’m staying. There’s something—”

“What have we here?”

Darcy jumped and Phil cursed under his breath at the familiar voice. Volkov had returned. But this time, he wasn’t alone. More than a dozen armed guards flanked him and Phil had a brief moment to wonder where all those men had come from before the fight began.

There was a moment of miscalculation where Darcy protectively yanked Phil behind her and accidentally elbowed him in an attempt to punch their attacker.

“Christ, Darcy.” Phil grabbed her and bodily moved her out of his way. “Stop that! You don’t need to protect me. Go hide or something.”

“Like hell!” she exclaimed, turning around and kicking a guard.

If she was determined to join in the fray, Phil wouldn’t stop her. She was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. after all, he reminded himself as he blocked a punch and delivered one of his own. He was fighting two guards at once while dodging bullets from others. He aimed a kick at one of the men, sending him tumbling into another behind him and then rolled over to the table where Volkov had tossed their weapons and other equipment. Phil grabbed a gun and swiftly spun around, neutralizing two guards with a flex of his finger against the trigger.

They were outnumbered but it didn’t matter. Phil could fight and shoot at the same time, so could Maude and the others. The only person feeling the strain was Darcy, who was still managing to hold her own without a weapon. When she fell because of a well-aimed punch, Phil felt desperate to go help her but he was stuck with three guards pounding on him at once. Before he could incapacitate them, Maude got to her, shooting down her attacker and helping Darcy up.

It wasn’t a particularly long or brutal fight. By the time they were fighting the last of the guards, Phil could feel a bruise forming on his forehead and Darcy’s nose was bleeding. She seemed otherwise all right. It didn’t occur to Phil to catalogue the injuries of the other agents. Darcy was somehow more important.

He was unsurprised to note that Volkov had disappeared during the fight. When it was clear that there were no more guards to take down, he turned to Maude.

“The Wolf can’t have gone that far. I’ll search the house, you take the neighborhood. And tie these men up, the ones still alive. We’re taking them with us.”

“Is there any reason Volkov would hide in the house?” questioned Maude. “He’d have better options of hiding outside.”

“I have a hunch,” Phil responded curtly before turning and stepping over the bodies into the corridor.

It didn’t surprise him when Darcy followed him but he was angry nonetheless. “Go with the men.”

“You might need my help.”

“If there really _is_ a secret room in this house like I think there is, we don’t know what’s in there. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m coming,” she said resolutely, making Phil sigh in resignation. As disobedient as ever. “Why do you think there’s a secret room?” she asked him as they carefully made their way around the house, poking and prodding at walls and tapestries.

“The guards must have come from somewhere. That means there’s a secret room or another entrance into this house… or both.”

“Volkov’s clever, I’ll give him that.” She fingered a framed photograph of the man in question and moved it to see blank wall. Well, it was worth a shot. Phil, who was examining a rather suspicious looking sculpture that he hasn’t seen last time they were there, looked up when Darcy gasped. “Phil, the nursery!”

His eyes widened. Yes, the nursery. How could he be so stupid? They sprinted toward the nursery and burst in, jabbing and punching things until the switch under the cot caught Phil’s attention. He pressed it and a trapdoor opened in the floor, causing Darcy to whistle lowly under her breath. So he had been right. There _was_ a secret hiding place there.

Phil pursed his lips when Darcy offered to go in before him but he couldn’t keep his lips from twitching up when she held onto his arms for support as she slowly lowered herself down the ladder. He climbed down right after her. It was dark down there. Not so dark that he couldn’t see but dark enough that he had to squint his eyes to get used to the dim lighting. Something heavy settled in the pit of his stomach when he took in the sight of the big underground room. It was dull grey and looked like a creepy hospital ward. A table full of electronic and medical equipment stood beside a metal chair that had restrainers on its head and arm rests.

Jesus, it was a torture chamber!

Phil heard a moan behind him and turned around to see Darcy looking at him helplessly. Vladimir Volkov stepped out of the shadows behind her, holding a gun to her side and smiling a victorious smile.

“You found me.”

“What is this place?” The sight made him nauseous, not that he would ever admit it to anyone. But it was clear that this was a torture chamber. Torture who, that was the question.

“It’s my secret abode. I use it sometimes to help a friend forget.” Volkov’s eyes shone as if he was hiding a juicy secret that he wanted Phil to guess. But Phil had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

“Where’s Cinna?” he asked instead, eyes fixed on the gun pointed at Darcy.

“He decided not to come. Too much chaos for his delicate ears.”

“Who’s Cinna?”

“Can’t give up his identity now, can I?” He pressed the barrel into Darcy’s ribs and Phil caught her wince. “I’m going to shoot her now, and then I’m going to kill you. I think I’m going to enjoy—”

Darcy slammed her head back into his face, cutting off his smug threats and making him howl in pain. His grip of her loosened but only for a second or two. “Phil, now!” Darcy yelled. A second or two was enough time for Phil to pull out his gun and send a bullet zooming towards Volkov. It pierced his throat, causing blood to spurt out and Darcy freed herself, falling to the floor trying to get away from him.

Phil watched with regret as Volkov slumped to the cold floor, painting it red. The plan wasn’t to kill him at all. Now they would never know what he was working on, what was the super soldier project and who was the mysterious Cinna. He didn’t dwell on it though, hurrying over to Darcy to give her a hand. It seemed like she was thinking the same thing.

“You shot him.”

“Yes.” It felt too anti-climactic.

“You saved my life.”

“Well…” It wasn’t a big deal. She wasn’t bad either. She had broken his nose with her skull. Admirable skill.

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

His eyes snapped to hers, the words ‘Ms. Lewis, this is unprofessional and inappropriate behavior’ not even crossing his mind for once. She was breathing hard from the adrenaline and when she fell into his arms, he let her. He realized he liked it. He realized he wanted it.

He realized it was long overdue anyway. S.H.I.E.L.D. could wait.

So he kissed her back.

And it was nice. _Very_ nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this little piece of crap originated after a conversation with Hollyspacey (who's really convincing, by the way) and then I just had to write Phil/Darcy even though I didn't have a plot or story planned. I hope you liked it anyway. If not, check out the various manips on my [tumblr](http://littleplebe.tumblr.com/) page. Maybe they can make up for this story.


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